


Bowling for a Win

by NikAdair



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bowling Date, competitive klance, just silly boys having a good time, silly bet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 12:40:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20174413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikAdair/pseuds/NikAdair
Summary: Nothing can ever be as easy as a simple game. There’s always gotta be a competition, and this bowling date is no different.





	Bowling for a Win

**Author's Note:**

> A quick little fic I wrote for vldrocketeer on Tumblr. I hope you like it!!

The clatter of pins on polished floors resonated throughout the building. Coloured lights lit up one end, dissolving into dim yellow-white light. The smell of greasy food wafted through the air, mixing with the humidity. It might not have been pleasant to a lot of people, but to Keith, it was comforting.

“Two games please,” Lance said, pulling Keith from his thoughts. The lady at the counter ran his card, handing it back to him, before giving them shoes. They were cliché – crème and red coloured with a highlighter yellow lightning bolt down the side. It made him chuckle a little. _These really fit the 80s vibe._

They made their way down the lanes, moving towards the far side of the building. The lights got dimmer the further they went. The last lane was only lit by coloured strung along the wall, giving the impression of a whole different world filled with mundane sounds. It was intriguing, and Keith enjoyed it.

Keith was quick to switch shoes, tossing his into an empty chair before looking at the shelves of bowling balls. Some were battered and matte, used so much that their sheen was gone. Others were glossy and new looking, as though they had just been put on the shelf. All of them were donated from players that no longer used them.

A maroon swirled one caught his eyes and Keith picked it up. It was heavy but felt natural in his hand. His fingers fit into the holes perfectly. This is a winning ball, he thought as he brought it back to their lane. Lance had already picked out a bright blue ball and was putting their names into the machine.

“Mullet, really?” Keith asked, leaning over Lance’s shoulder. Lance laughed, pressing enter and solidifying the name. He watched as Lance tried to enter ‘Sharpshooter’, but it was too long. Keith chuckled, pushing him out of the way. “Here, let’s try this.” He typed quickly, pressing enter before Lance could protest.

“Lover Boy, huh? So you think I’m lovely?” Lance said, winking at him. Keith rolled his eyes but smiled, ruffling Lance’s hair. Lance made a sound of protect, smoothing it back down, and Keith laughed.

“If I didn’t find you lovely, would I be here?” Lance narrowed his eyes a little, thinking over what he said. Keith smirked, turning his attention to the pins as they got set up.

He stood, stretching his hands a little before picking up his ball. The carpet ended and transitioned into polished wood floors. His shoes slid a little on the floor, the polish meant to give competitive bowlers an edge. Keith lined himself up with the center pin, pulling the ball to his chest, swinging it back, and throwing it forward, watching as it hit the floor and rolled. It’s course veered to the right side, and he knocked down three pins.

He heard Lance laughing behind him as the pins cleared and reset. His ball came back, and he readjusted himself, standing to the right and angling himself to the left. Again, he bowled, watching the ball veer to the left this time. He hit two more pins before they reset. A score of five on the first frame. Not bad, considering it’d been years since he’d bowled.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and Lance gently pulled him back. “Now watch a pro bowl,” he said, giving Keith a wink. Keith shook his head, sitting in the closest chair and watching his boy send the ball down the lane. It shifted a little the right, and he knocked down seven of the pins, leaving the three in the back left up right. Lance turned to look at him, smirking.

“Finish your turn, Lover Boy,” Keith said, a little annoyed at Lance doing better than him. _It’s just the first frame. There’s still plenty of time to beat him._ Lance’s shouts pulled him from his thoughts. Keith looked up at the score board, seeing a spare in Lance’s frame.

“That’s how you bowl, baby!” Lance cheered, walking back to the chairs. “It’s your turn, Mullet.” Keith mockingly copied him, swatting at Lance’s shoulder as he passed. Lance laughed, taking his seat and Keith stood in front of the middle pin again. This time he angled himself to the left, but threw to the right. The ball started towards the right, but rounded back towards the middle. It clipped the first pin before knocking into the four to the left. The pin wobbled, but still stood as the pins were reset.

Keith didn’t waste anytime in finishing his turn, knocking another five pins. He gave Lance a smirk, but that cocky smile on his face was still there. Lance took his turn, again bowling a spare. “You’re not beating me Mullet. I’m too good at this,” Lance said as he walked back.

“I’m so gonna beat you,” Keith shot back.

Lance quirked an eyebrow. “Is that a bet then?” Keith nodded, and Lance crossed his arms, smirking. “Alright. Loser has to watch whatever movie the winner wants. _Any_ movie, deal?” Lance said, offering a hand. Keith narrowed his eyes a little. This was a dangerous bet. It could either go horribly wrong or fantastically right. After a few seconds of deliberation, Keith reached out, shaking Lance’s hand. “Good, now take your turn.”

They went back and forth, Keith always falling a few pins short of a spare. Lance, more often than not, got spares. He’d even managed to bowl a few strikes. Keith, in his defense, had gotten progressively better as the game went on. As Lance bowled his last frame, Keith sighed in defeat. “Alright, you win, a deal’s a deal,” he said dejectedly.

Lance walked back, arms crossed. “How about this: this game was a warm up. The next one is for keeps.” Keith contemplated it. He had gotten better as the game went on, and now that he was warmed up and knew his tendencies better, he might have a shot at winning.

“Alright. But no taking it back when I kick your ass McClain.” Lance laughed, setting up the next game. Keith took this time to head to the concession stand. True to the smell of the building, most of the menu was fried foods. He walked up to the cashier, taking out his wallet. “Can I get an order of fried pickles, two hot dogs, and a large soda please?”

He paid the cashier, being told that they’d call his order when it was ready, and walked back to the lane. Lance was finishing up, and Keith looked up at the score board. Lance as going first this game. _That’s fine with me, gives me more time to devise a strategy._

Of course Lance’s first frame was a spare. He walked back, winking as he took his seat. Keith stood, taking a deep breath before grabbing his ball. He concentrated on the way his body felt and threw the ball. He watched as it shot down the lane, a straight line towards the center pin. There was a loud clatter, and all the pins fell.

“Yes!!” Keith cheered, turning to look at Lance. His eyes were wide, his lips parted slightly. Keith smirked, coming back to his seat. “It’s your turn, Lover Boy.” Lance shot him a look and he laughed. As Lance lined up his shot, the cashier called his name. He jogged over and grabbed the food, coming back and placing it on the divider wall between the lanes and the rest of the building.

Lance managed another spare, and turned, his attention instantly focusing on the food. “You bought food, so I forgive you for the strike,” he said, walking over and taking one of the hot dogs. Keith grabbed a few fried pickles, revelling in the greasy breading. They were one of absolute favourite foods, and something about bowling alley fried pickles was absolutely delicious.

He bowled his turn, returning to his few pins short of a spare streak. Back and forth, him and Lance fighting for a lead. As they got to the last frame, they’d somehow managed to tie up the game. “This is for all the glory,” Lance said, finishing up their soda. Keith ate the last of the fried pickles and wiped the grease from his hands. He walked forward, closing his eyes as he adjusted his body to how he’d felt the first frame.

With a deep breath, he opened them, sending the ball down the lane. It wobbled a little, but stayed true to it’s dead center path. It went crashing through the pins, sending them all to the ground. He did a quick dance, trotting back to pick up his ball as the pins reset. Lance was speechless, and Keith smirked.

He ended the game with a spare to finish the frame, and Lance took his spot. “Don’t think you’ve won just yet, Mullet. I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeves.”

“What sleeves? You’re wearing a tank top,” Keith said. Lance sputtered, stomping his foot a little.

“You know what I mean!” Keith laughed, watching Lance recompose himself and take aim. His ball was fast, a clear dead center shot towards the pins. They fell quickly, scattering across the back of the lane. It was Keith’s turn to be speechless, and Lance sent him a cocky grin. He picked up his ball and lined up his second shot.

Keith hoped Lance would gutter it, but instead he bowled another strike, putting him over Keith’s score. “And that makes me the winner,” Lance said, walking back towards him. Keith groaned, looking at how close the game had been. Lance wrapped his arms around his waist, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on ya. We’ll only watch White Chicks.”

He groaned, and Lance laughed. They switched into their own shoes, handing the rentals back to the lady up front. As much as Keith hated to admit it, even though he lost, he’d had a great time. _Lance is lucky I love him. But next time, I’m winning._


End file.
